


You Weren't There

by Clara_In_Stress



Series: Sorrowful Regrets [2]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Game)
Genre: -hits pk on the forehead- this boyo can fit so many regrets inside him, Angst, Heavy Angst, Hollow's name is Howl, Mental Breakdown, Other, Sad, Suffering, The Pale King is suffering a lot, Why do I do this to my favorites?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 05:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20633852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_In_Stress/pseuds/Clara_In_Stress
Summary: You weren't there, Hornet, you weren't there for the tears and the breakdowns and the suffering. You don't know our father like I do. You think of him as a villain, yet he was the one suffering most.





	You Weren't There

“You are wrong.”

The Hollow Knight flinches together with his sister. He’s still getting used to the voice the Void gave him after his sibling’s sacrifice, and he’s still learning what tone of voice to use in each situation. So he throws her an apologetic look which Hornet thankfully understands. He had not meant to sound so harsh, but he won’t deny wanting to show how upset he was. His sister has all the right to dislike her— _ their— _ father and what he’s done, but she should not talk ill about him as if she knew him.

She was not there.

“You don’t know father as I do.”

“What’s there to know other than that he’s a bastard?”

She was not there. She does not know.

“You weren’t there, sister. You weren’t there. You weren’t there to see the tears.”

_ The Pure Vessel watches, hidden by the shadows of his mother’s garden, as his father weeps. The mask of dignified indifference inexistent, fat tears rolling down his face, hiccups shaking his whole body. The Pale King kneels in the middle of the calming garden, crying for his wife, for his children, for his people, for himself. He wails as if a horrible evil had caught his heart in between its claws and insistently pulls, trying to rip it out of his chest. Maybe there is. _

“You weren’t there for the apologies.”

_ The Pale King kneels in front of his Queen, not daring to touch her with his tarnished hands, and he cries and cries. And he begs, begs for forgiveness, begs for peace, begs for punishment, begs for it all to stop. And the Queen can do nothing, knowing he’ll flinch away if she approaches, thinking himself putrid, impure, corrupted. And he’ll run, run back to his lab so no bug would be exposed to such shameful existence, until the mask snaps back into place and seals away his sins. The Pure Vessel watches as his mother weeps with his father, for his father, for her children, for her Kingdom, for herself, and he watches as each tear of hers adds more and more to the King’s burden. _

“You weren’t there to see the mask cracking and him desperately trying to glue it together.”

_ The Pure Vessel watches as his father’s hand hovers over his head for a few seconds. He watches as his father’s eyes flash with pride. He watches as his posture softens. And then it goes rigid again. The coldness of indifference veils the pride. The hand falls back to his body’s side without a single touch to the Vessel’s shell. In a tight voice, he is congratulated by the Pale King who then promptly walks away. The Vessel watches his father’s back as he leaves, noticing the tensed shoulders. _

“You weren’t there.”

_ His father has the best laughter, the Pure Vessel finds out. It’s deep and low and smooth. A barely there sound accompanied with crinkled eyes and a hand bashfully hiding his face. He wants to hear it more, he decides. He wants father to always be able to laugh like that. He wants father to be happy. And if being empty and containing the Infection is what he needs to do to lift the weight off of the King’s back, then he’ll gladly do it. For his father, who martyrs himself over the situation, for his mother, who silently bears everything for the sake of her husband, for his siblings, who he knows will be freed once the Infection was stopped, for the sake of his Kingdom, the Kingdom his parents had worked so hard to build. _

“You think of him as a villain, an evil fighting a worse evil.”

_ “I was thinking of naming my first child “Howl”, I find it a beautiful name.” His father comments, trying to ease both their nerves before the ritual. _

_ They both know he is an imperfect Vessel, but there is no time. The Infection has to be stopped now, or there will be no more hope. So he does what he has watched his father do so many times, and puts on a mask. A mask of emptiness. And he makes believe it is true. The King notices, of course he does, and whatever is left of his broken heart withers away. There is no time. There is no time. They have to do it now. _

“But if anything, he was the one suffering most.”

_ The Hollow Knight watches, one last time, as the Pale King walks away. He’s staggering and clearly weak, but stubbornly moving forwards. He has much to do. He has to find a way to end the Infection once for all. He has to free his child and his people. _

_ “I’ll come back for you, my son.” _

_ Yes, the Hollow Knight knows. He’ll wait. He’ll do his best to contain the Infection and the Radiance. He’ll wait and he’ll fight and soon, soon he’ll be back with his father, and his mother, and his siblings. The world around him fades away, and all he can see is the Radiance’s Light. It is the brightest Light, yet somehow pales in comparison to his father’s. _

“And I wasn’t there for him.” Tears fall on his hands. “I failed him. He died alone, weak and grieving, and I let our Kingdom suffer.”

“You are not to blame, brother. He died shortly after the ritual, there was nothing you could have done.” Hornet intervenes, hand softly touching his arm in that awkward show of affection she’s capable of.

“I hope—”a shaky breath leaves him and he clutches his hands—“that wherever he is, he is finally in peace, knowing that his Kingdom is free and so are his children.”

Howl guesses it’s now his father’s turn to wait for him.

Someday he’ll be there.

By his father's side again.


End file.
